Yet Miss Cottrell was by no means of an indolent nature. She prided herself on her active habits, and was especially fond of gardening. Her love for this pursuit brought her into collision with old Hobbes, our gardener. He could not forgive her for presuming to instruct him on certain points, and when she offered to help him, he well-nigh resigned his post. In order to secure peace between them, aunt had to make over to her a tiny plot of ground, where she could grow what she liked, and make what experiments she pleased, Hobbes being strictly forbidden to interfere with it. The scorn with which he regarded her attempts at horticulture was sublime.
Unfortunately, though fond of exercise, Miss Cottrell did not care for solitary walks, and I often felt it incumbent on me to be her companion. Her society was far from agreeable to me. It was wonderful how little we had in common. Although she had been a governess, she seemed absolutely without literary tastes, and even devoid of all ideas that were not petty and trivial. Every attempt to hold an intelligent conversation with her brought me face to face with a dead wall.
All she cared for was to dwell on personal details of her own life or the lives of others. She had an insatiable curiosity, and was for ever asking me questions concerning my aunt or her guests, or my own home life, which I could not or would not answer. Her love of gossip led her to visit daily the one small shop the village could boast, and marvellous were the tales she brought us from thence. She was ready to talk to any one and every one whom she might encounter. She was fond of visiting the cottagers, and they appreciated her visits, for she listened attentively to the most garrulous, and told them what to do for their rheumatism or cramp, and how to treat the ailments of their children. I must say she was very kind-hearted; her good nature and her love of flowers were her redeeming qualities.
She professed to admire the Vicar's preaching, and she often found cause to visit the Vicarage. She paid both the Vicar and his friend the Colonel more attention than they could appreciate. And the worst of it was that she was slower to take a hint than any one I had ever known. How Aunt Patty bore with her irritating ways I cannot tell. Miss Cottrell certainly put a severe strain upon the politeness and forbearance of her hostess. She was not a bad sort of woman, but only insufferably vulgar, tactless and ill-bred.
Paulina made fun of her, yet neither she nor her father seemed to object to Miss Cottrell's cross-questioning, or to shun her society; but Colonel Hyde and Professor Faulkner would make their escape from the drawing-room whenever it was possible, if that lady entered it. Aunt confessed to me that she longed to dismiss this unwelcome guest, but had no sufficient excuse.
She had not been with us very long when Josiah Dicks had an attack of illness. Miss Cottrell, having wrung from me the statement that I believed him to be a millionaire, evinced the utmost interest in the American. She annoyed me very much by saying that she could see that Professor Faulkner was looking after his money by courting Paulina. Nothing could be farther from the truth. It was, of course, possible that Alan Faulkner might be attracted by Paulina, but he was not the man to woo her for the sake of her father's wealth. But it was absurd of me to mind what such a one as Miss Cottrell said.
Though he was very far from well, Mr. Dicks would not stay in his room, but hung about the house looking the colour of one of the sovereigns he spent so lavishly. Miss Cottrell was full of sympathy for him. She suggested various remedies, which he tried one after another, while he rejected Aunt Patty's sensible advice that he should send for a medical man from Chelmsford.
Miss Cottrell's solicitude contrasted oddly with Paulina's apparent indifference. When she came downstairs the next morning she was wearing a hat, and carried a coat over her arm, and she said quite calmly as she took her place at the breakfast-table:
"Poppa says he is worse. He has been in awful pain all night, and has not slept a wink. He thinks he is dying."
"My dear," ejaculated Aunt Patty, "I am distressed to hear it. And are you going for the doctor?"